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Sunday, May 10, 2015

Mother's Day



When it comes to Mother's Day many moms have feelings other than happiness or joy. For those mothers who have lost a child but have other living children, some people will say that you need to focus on the children you do have and not dwell on what you've lost. Before I became a bereaved mother, I had that though cross my mind as well. But I now know how insensitive that idea is. 

Just because I'm sad, it doesn't mean I'm not grateful. And just because I'm grateful, it doesn't mean I'm not sad. 

I can miss my daughter and be sad that she isn't in my arms on this Mother's Day. I'm allowed! At the same moment I can be grateful and find joy in my daughter, Ella, and my son growing inside of my belly. I can do both! 

I can't help but think about Daisy on this day as I do every single day. But I have found today that I am able to be joyous that I am her mom. I am happy that I was able to take care of her and nurture her through 8 months of pregnancy. I am proud of how beautiful and perfect she was. I am reflecting on all those little baby wiggles from the inside of my body. I am just so lucky be her mom, no matter how much time I got to spend with her or how that time was spent. She taught me so much about life, God, myself, my marriage. She taught me how to find joy in life even when it seems bleak. I want to honor her memory with happiness and pride, not sadness and grief. 

While I am still sad that she isn't with me, I am choosing to be thankful for every little moment I had with her. I am choosing to celebrate her life today and celebrate my job as a mother. I have been blessed with three precious children, Ella, Daisy, and my baby boy. Being a mom is the best job in the world and at the same time, the hardest. I give thanks to God for choosing me to be the mother of these three children and I am excited to see how He continues to bless my life.

Be sensitive to those mamas out there who have had to give their children back to God. Some are hurting more than they show. Don't be afraid to speak about the children they lost. They want to! Push yourself out of your comfort zone in order to brighten a mama's day. 



Proverbs 31:28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:

Sunday, May 3, 2015

Levels of loss

This week I stepped in a time machine and went back to July 12th, the day my precious daughter died. I relived everything about that day in vivid detail. I couldn't stop thinking about the days after.. I remembered that feeling when I would wake up in the morning and for a second it was all a dream, and how when I would shake the sleep out of my mind, my horrifying reality would hit me like a ton of bricks. I remembered the devastation. I remembered planning my daughter's funeral. I remembered pretending to be fine. I remembered attending that funeral and showing the people nearest and dearest to me how weak I really was. 

Those thoughts and memories never really leave me. I just know how to manage them better now. But the thing that triggered all of this was the death of another precious baby. Reliving all of those moments caused tears to stream down my face for days. I was not crying for my loss, though. I was crying for the parents of Cooper Burnett, the 6 month old baby who fought his whole short life to live but alas could not. I have so much empathy for his sweet parents. I understand what it is like to lose your baby. I am sorry for them, for the path they have to take now. 

In my journey through grief, I have found that you must be very careful when showing empathy, though, because there is a very fine line between empathy and insensitivity. The need to relate to people in order to comfort them is great. Since the passing of my daughter, so many people have told me they know how I feel or share stories that they think connect us. Sometimes it is helpful and sometimes it is offensive. 

I have found that there are different levels of loss. The levels are on the same plane, not one being better or worse than another. There are similarities in the feelings you may feel but there are differences. For example, I have bonded with my mother in law over my loss because she has also lost a child. Her son, Tel, passed away at 18 years old in a car accident. We share many of the same emotions because we have both suffered through the death of a child. However I feel cheated out of a lifetime of memories, whereas she has tons of memories. She had to deal with missing someone who was a constant physical presence in her life, someone she saw and talked to every single day, whereas I did not have to make those adjustments since Daisy was never able to come home with us. I could go on and on. My point is my loss is much different  from her loss. It is different from a miscarriage, the death of a child at 5 years old or the death of a child at 40 years old. No better. No worse. Just different. For me to tell my mother in law I know how she feels would be wrong. I don't know how she feels and vice versa.  

I know that I can offer some empathy to our friends who have lost their baby but I don't know exactly how they feel. They got to know Cooper and see his little personality grow. They watched him fight for 180 days. I'm sure there were days of hope and days of discouragement. 

 I pray that I can be sensitive to their needs as they grieve and that I can offer comfort to them. I hope they will know that I am here for them to talk to any time. I hope that I do not let my own grief cloud my ability to be completely caring and loving towards them. I have realized that we should not have our own agenda when comforting others. Just listen and love and be there. That's all anyone really needs from a friend. 



Matthew 19:14 
But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Proverbs 3:5 
Trust in the lord with all your heart; lean not on your own understanding.

Monday, April 20, 2015

A simple question



How many kids do you have?

It's a simple question. It's a question that no one thinks twice about asking. It doesn't seem to be one of those "too personal" questions that people are nervous to ask. It's a question that you feel like you can ask a total stranger. It's an easy question to ASK but not an easy question to ANSWER. 

For me and me alone the answer is truly a simple one. I have two children and one on the way. But I'm afraid if people want to know more, I will have to explain that one of my children died. I honestly have no problem saying that my daughter died but it makes other people feel uncomfortable. They begin to feel guilty that they even asked the question. I also wonder if they think I'm weird for including my angel in my number of children...like maybe I don't need to include her because it makes conversations awkward and I should be more aware of that. (I'm definitely aware of that by the way!)

I went to the eye doctor several weeks ago and one of the assistants asked me if this was my first child. I said it was my second because I wanted to avoid all of those other complications since she was just making small talk. But as soon as I said it, I felt like I had just twisted the knife in my own heart. I felt like I had betrayed Daisy. I felt ashamed. 

There are plenty of people who have lost children when they were older: 8, 18, 40, etc, and I think they have more ownership of their number of children. They have memories. Other people have memories. Their children were KNOWN. I feel like I'm the only person that knows Daisy. I don't know what her smile looks like. I don't know what her laugh sounds like. I don't know what movies she would have liked or what foods she would've hated. I did feel her wiggle in my belly though. I held her tiny body. I saw her sweet face. But no one else knew her like that. It's as though since she was born sleeping, she wasn't born at all. 

Is it strange for me to include her in the number of children I have? Is it off putting for me to explain that she now lives in Heaven? Will people look at me with pity? Will they think I am crazy? 

I'm still not sure how to answer the question. My only hope is that someone else will feel safe to include their angel in their "number" when they talk to me. I will continue to pray for the strength to stand strong and be confident as Daisy's mother. I want to feel safe to give an honest answer to this deceivingly simple question.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Social media

I think social media is a great thing when used appropriately. My generation started social media! I got a Facebook account mere months after it was started by Mark Zuckerburg. Since then I have been an active participant. I enjoy being able to keep up with long distance family members. It is awesome to stay in touch with people who were special to you at one time in your life but have drifted apart or moved away. I like being able to post something once and all my friends and family have access to it instead of spending time trying to tell everyone individually. In our fast paced world, it makes maintaining relationships so much easier. I have shared my ups and downs as a young adult on Facebook. One of my favorite things though has been chronicling my pregnancies with Facebook. I love looking back on belly photos and posts about swollen feet, overly helpful people, and sweet baby kicks...the wonders of pregnancy! 

But when my baby died I nestled myself inside a shell. I frantically checked Facebook for days after her death, panicking that someone might have posted that my daughter had died. For some reason I did not want to see this particular event on social media. I was feeling things that I had never felt before...things I didn't want anyone to see. I put on a brave face (still do!) and went on about my life without skipping a beat. I didn't know what else to do. I had another child to take care of...a child that had also fallen in love with our baby...a child who was excited to be a big sister. That had been taken away from her. It wasn't easy for any of us.

Fast forward a few months and we found out we were having another precious baby! We were happy that our prayers had been answered but we kept it to ourselves for awhile. I was terrified of losing this baby and I also felt very protective. I chose not to tell anyone for quite some time. Around 12 weeks it was becoming impossible to hide, physically, and I had to tell close friends, family, and work. It was very emotional and nerve wracking for me to tell people but it was also a huge relief! 

However, I was still feeling very protective and did not want to share on social media. One afternoon I went to visit a friend and after a long, productive talk, she reminded me of how great social media can be. She reminded me that social media can be a place for support and love. It can be a place for people to reach out when they don't know how else to do so. I began reflecting on Daisy's death and how even though I didn't post much of anything for awhile, I still gathered a ton of support through social media. I know that this child is something to be celebrated and I decided to share my pregnancy with the Facebook world when I was almost 20 weeks. We had found out that we are having a BOY this time around which we are really excited about. But more importantly we found out that I do not have vasa previa this time and that the baby is growing well and is seemingly healthy. I gather a lot of comfort in this knowledge but I am still guarding my heart. I am still worried that I won't be able to bring him home with me and I don't think that feeling will go away until he is officially in this house! Luckily I go to a maternal/fetal medicine specialist at Scott and White in Temple and am being closely monitored. I feel confident that my doctor wants to do everything he can to help me bring a baby home this time. I can't help but wish I had received this attention during my pregnancy with Daisy, but I can't change the past. All I can do is continue to look forward and take each day one step at a time!

Psalm 139:13-16  For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Vasa Previa

One of my main goals for opening up about the death of my daughter is to spread awareness of vasa previa. I have prayed for the strength to write about my experience and I have not yet found that strength. But how can I spread awareness if I can't talk about it?! I've decided to compromise with myself. I will share the FACTS I've learned about vasa previa.

There will be a time when I share the specifics of my experience but I just don't feel ready. It's so personal and private. I am in no way offended when people ask me what happened and I am not afraid to talk about it. However, I tend to breeze over it very quickly giving just enough information. I know that I will share my birth story one day and that day might be right around the corner. But it's not now. 

But let's talk about vasa previa...

Vasa praevia is a rare condition that is NOT routinely checked for during pregnancy even though it can be EASILY detected with a Doppler ultrasound or 3-D ultrasound. When it goes undetected there is a 90% mortality rate. That is a devastating consequence for something that can be easily checked and monitored! I encourage every one that is pregnant, plans to be pregnant, or knows someone that's pregnant to be informed! I read everything there is to read about pregnancy but I had never even heard of this condition. 

If it had been detected while I was pregnant with Daisy, I would've been placed on pelvic rest (not bed rest) after the diagnosis. I would've been given steroids to help my baby grow faster if needed. I would have possibly been hospitalized around 30 weeks for observation. We would have planned a c-section for 34 weeks gestation. What a simple way to prevent the death of a baby!

Vasa praevia (in a very shortened version) is when the umbilical cord passes over the opening of the cervix. It has no symptoms to speak of other than MAYBE some spotting or bleeding and is not painful. If you have vasa previa you cannot give birth vaginally because the cord will detach from the placenta and/or the blood vessels will rupture. In my case Daisy's umbilical cord was also velamentous. This is a common combination in vasa praevia, so common in fact that the terms vasa praevia and velamentous cord insertion are often used interchangeably to refer to this condition. Velamentous cord insertion means the blood vessels of the umbilical cord were not encased in Wharton's jelly like normal but instead exposed, looking like a spider web connecting to the placenta. This makes them very vulnerable to rupture. The rupture of these vessels results in massive but painless bleeding. When the vessels rupture in vasa praevia, the baby goes into fetal bradycardia which means the heart rate drops due to lack of oxygen and blood and will result in rapid death if not immediately taken via c-section.

9 out of 10 vasa previa pregnancies end in the death of the baby when undiagnosed. When diagnosed, that mortality rate drops to almost ZERO! Why is this not routinely checked for during pregnancy? Why do doctors not check for this during the 20 week anatomy scan? Most people will say the reason is because it's so rare, but it is as common as having a baby with Down's Syndrome! Down's Syndrome is commonly checked for during pregnancy so why isn't vasa praevia?! It's less invasive than checking for Down's. Instead of a blood draw or amniocentesis, vasa praevia can be checked via ultrasound. 

500 babies a year die due to vasa praevia and every single death was preventable...not just preventable, but EASILY preventable! Pregnant mamas everywhere need to know about this condition. All you have to do is ask to be checked at your anatomy scan. If your hospital does not have Doppler ultrasounds (the ones with the red and blue colors), have an elective 3-d ultrasound and ask them to check. I know it costs extra but it could save your baby's life! 


* I am no doctor! I am sharing the condition in as simple of a way as I can. I have taken information given to me by doctors, specialists, and my own research.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Yellow Daffodils



I pass by the cemetery where Daisy is buried every day. I used to stop every single day. Lately it's been less frequent and I feel as though I've almost been avoiding it for some reason. For about the last week I've noticed a bright spot of yellow near her grave and so today I stopped to see what the new item was. There was a cute little bouquet of artificial daffodils sticking up out of the ground and it made me wonder who had placed them there. It was interesting because when I usually visit the grave I am sad. I cry amongst the ants and grass burrs. But today upon noticing the yellow flowers I smiled. There's something about the color yellow. It symbolizes happiness and warmth. And that is exactly what those flowers did for me. It made me happy that someone remembered my baby. It warmed my heart. And made me wonder. 

 I asked my mother-in-law if she had placed them there because she's the only one I could think of that routinely visits the grave other than me. She said no, that she hadn't been there in a while and I continued to be baffled. And then I realized there are more people that care about my daughter than just myself and my family. There are people out there that watched my belly grow. There are people that held my hand the day she died. There are people who brought my family food when we couldn't find the motivation to even enter the kitchen. There are people who sent cards and flowers. There are people who didn't know what to say but gave the best hugs in the world. It doesn't matter who left the flowers. All that matters is that there are more people out there than I realize on a day-to-day basis that care for me, my family, and Daisy.

While coming to this realization I had another. I was terrible about getting thank you cards out after Daisy's death. That has got to be one of the worst things you have to do after your child dies...write thank you notes. I remember the first time I sat down to do them and I nearly threw up. It took me awhile and then I tackled them again. I had stamps for about half and sent them. The other half sat in my truck until yesterday, yes yesterday, 8 months later, when I put stamps on them and mailed them out. There were a handful that I didn't have addresses for and never asked around. I had the biggest lack of motivation for those cards. It isn't because I am not thankful. I am so thankful for those kindnesses that I can't even express it! Those kind acts got my family through this tragedy! I couldn't follow through with those thank you notes because every time I sent one out it was like it was closer and closer to her death(life) being "over." 

I learned something from those yellow daffodils. Happiness can be found through the kindness of others. The smallest gestures can heal my broken heart. And while I will never be completely healed, I will be better. I will keep going. I will be strong. I will be a yellow daffodil to someone else.



1 Thessalonians 5:18
Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Compassion


It has always been difficult for me to show emotion. It is even more difficult for me to have other people show their emotions to me. I have always avoided addressing emotional situations. I don't often say, "I'm sorry for your loss," for fear of inducing tears. I don't prod people or ask questions that might evoke an emotional response. When someone reaches out to me about something that is really upsetting to them I tend to turn away. It is not because I'm a cold hearted person...I'm anything but! I just don't know how to deal with it. It makes me uncomfortable which makes me feel like I can't control the situation. I like to be in control! I think a lot of people feel this way. 

I still feel these feelings. I can still be perceived as emotionally distant. I have found, though, after going through something so traumatic, so horrific, so tragic, so heartbreaking, that it is ok to talk about it. More importantly I have found the courage to talk to others about their losses. 

There are some topics that most people avoid, like miscarriage, still birth, death in general. No one knows what to say and so they say nothing. One thing I've learned from the death of my daughter is that staying silent and pretending it didn't happen makes the hurt person feel even worse. There is nothing anyone can say that will make you feel better but a simple, "I'm thinking about you," or "how are you really doing?" Or "I'm sorry about what happened to you," really warms the heart of the broken soul. It's never too late to acknowledge a loss like this, to offer a hug, or to just let the wounded know they are thought of, prayed for, and cared for. There were/are many people in my life that have never reached out to me, have never even acknowledged that something happened to me. Some of these people I see every single day. Interesting...

Another thing I wish people would realize is that I have a baby! I carried her in my body for 8 months. I gave birth to her. I cradled her in my arms. I am excited about her! I am proud of her! I would love to talk about her! It would be nice if people asked me what she looked like or how much she weighed or how long she was. But no one does. Her birth is not recognized by others because it coincided with her death. She is not really acknowledged at all. 

I know that most people probably think they are sparing me from pain by not bringing it up. I am in pain. That will not increase because you asked me about my baby. You will not remind me of her because I think about her every second of every day! It is difficult to have been so excited for her arrival, to have spoken with joy about her for so many months, and then to all of a sudden be sworn to silence. That's what her death feels like for me. I don't want her to be forgotten. I know I will never forget her! I wish that I could talk about her without making other people squirm. 

I am not crazy. I am not in denial. I am not awkward or inappropriate. I just love Daisy. 


2 Corinthians 1:3-4  Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.